


The Truth Hurts

by Cuppa_Char



Series: Someone Adopt This Boy Immediately [1]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: 1x10, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, JJ has abandonment issues, JJ has daddy issues, JJ has mommy issues too, Missing Scene, someone adopt that boy immediately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_Char/pseuds/Cuppa_Char
Summary: The noise is too much outside of his head, let alone the noise inside of it - mixing with the rushing of his blood, his breaths too loud in his ears, his thoughts too loud…John B’s gone, John B’s gone, John B’s gone.
Relationships: JJ & Deputy Shoupe, JJ & John B. Routledge, JJ & Kiara, JJ & Pope, JJ & Pope’s Dad
Series: Someone Adopt This Boy Immediately [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712983
Comments: 17
Kudos: 291





	The Truth Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this started out as a Tony Stark adoption fic. But somehow, about halfway through, I seem to have dad-fied Deputy Shoupe.
> 
> I’m going to keep the idea of Tony Stark fic open though.

JJ hadn’t expected  _ this _ .

The way things were headed he’d expected to be on a one-way ticket to juvie.

Out of all them, he’d been the one to spiral first. He had ever since his mom left and his dad started losing himself in the copious amounts of booze bottles that littered their home.

He’d been stoned when he’d first heard John B tell the rest of the Pogues about how Peterkin and the CPS had been sniffing around, trying to find a reason or a way to take John B in.

He’d laughed then, ignoring Kie’s hard gaze, and offered John B his spliff with an apologetic shrug.

It had been ironic, really, how much time and effort Peterkin and Cheryl put in, but when it came down to it, despite his dad missing, and his uncle ditching, John B had his shit together more than most. Or, more specifically,  _ him _ \- He had a roof over his head, he had the occasional cash sent to him - enough to pay the bills and food - a job, and most importantly -  _ them _ .

JJ, on the other hand, spent most of his time on the receiving end of his dad’s drunken rages and couch surfing between Pope and John B, Kie sometimes sneaking him in to crash in a booth and slip him the occasional left over diner food.

John B had some security. All JJ had was the Pogues.

He knew he was a handful. Always had been.

He knew people didn’t like him - John B, Kie and Pope not included, he’d imbedded in their lives and he knew,  _ hoped _ , that they loved him as  _ intrinsically _ and as  _ unconditionally _ as he loved each and every one of them - but in general, he was hard to love. 

He had  _ too _ much energy,  _ too _ much of a big-mouth,  _ too _ stupid,  _ too _ selfish, too much of  _ everything _ . He was reckless and dangerous and an attention whore. He did things big and loud.  _ Desperate _ . He could be ugly and crude and over-affectionate and tactile, and had a fuse that was too short. He could be the life of the party or the one who could over-step and ruin it. Usually both.

So, it was a surprise when Pope’s dad pulls him into their hug and continues to hug him when Pope’s mom pulls her son away for a hug of her own. He cries then, big ugly sobs - because John B’s  _ gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone  _ \- one part of his safe place ripped away and he can’t breathe anymore.

“I know son, I know…” Heyward murmurs.

He hadn’t expected the deputies to be as gentle as they were - not when he’d practically assaulted Shoupe - or Shoupe covering his shoulders with his own jacket, when the small tremors littering his arms develop into full blown shakes, feeding his arms into the massive sleeves.

He ends up sitting against the tent wall, face still wet from tears, Pope and his mom sitting next to him, Pope’s dad on his other side, a warm solid presence against him, when he hears Shoupe mutter angrilly  _ “He’s just a kid, for christ-sakes,” _ before turning to look at him.

Yeah, he hadn’t expected any of this - for John B to crash and burn, for Pope’s Dad to show him any kindness, for the cops to be actually  _ nice _ .

He definitely doesn’t expect what comes after.

And the in-between? Well, it was  _ him _ after all. He'd once been described as a whirlwind of a disaster, so everything else was pretty much a given.

* * *

Shoupe and a deputy approach slowly, hands out, as though they have already decided he’s gonna run.

“JJ… We’re gonna have to take you in,” Shoupe is saying. “Your old man reported you for assault.”

_ Of course he did.  _ The drunken asshole.

The laughter rolls out of him, just like it did when John B had told them about Peterkin, Cheryl and  _ ‘fostering’ _ . And then because he knows it’s the wrong reaction, he laughs even harder.

The room erupts into noise.

“C’mon Shoupe,” Pope’s dad is saying, arm tightening around his shoulders. “Can’t it wait. The kid’s in shock. Just look at him.”

“Shoupe, man…” Pope pleads quietly, urgently. “This isn’t fair. You know it isn’t.”

“Get up, Kid…” Shoupe ignores them, takes his arm and plucks him to his feet. JJ doesn’t resist, body limp and compliant, he goes easily. The deputy from before looks like he’s ready for a fight, like he’s expecting it, and grabs at his arm. It makes him stumble, falling into Shoupe’s and the deputy's space.

“Take it easy,” Shoupe snaps at his colleague as he straightens JJ, “He’s just a kid.”

The noise before snowballs from there. There’s yelling and pushing and shoving and someone pulls him out of the melee.

Kie’s the loudest.

_ “LOOK AT HIM. LOOK WHAT THAT ASSHOLE DID TO HIM!” _

The noise is too much outside of his head, let alone the noise inside of it - mixing with the rushing of his blood, his breaths too loud in his ears, his thoughts too loud…  _ John B’s gone, John B’s gone, John B’s gone. _

He clasps his hands over his ears, muffling his own scream, squeezing his eyes shut, even as he feels someone try to pull them away. When he refuses to let go he feels whoever is touching him bracket their hands over his instead and tug him close, foreheads touching.

“It’s okay, JJ…” Pope breathes between them. “I got you. Just breathe, man. Just breathe.”

* * *

“I need you to tell me what happened,” Shoupe says. “If you don’t tell me, kid, I can’t help you.”

“Like how Peterkin and  _ Cheryl _ tried to  _ help _ John B?” he scoffs. “Where is he again?” 

He cups his ear, listening, waiting for a response

“JJ…” Shoupe sighs. “Cut it out.”

“None of you cared before.”

He slumps back in his seat, lazy, languidly, as though his heart isn’t beating right out of his chest.

Shoupe places a file on the desk between them, pulls out sheet after sheet.

“Peterkin was concerned about you JJ. She had a file,” he says. JJ watches as he spreads the sheets out. He recognises some of them - a photo of JJ leaving school with a black eye, multiple hospital records, police reports-

JJ scowls

“And she did  _ nothing _ ?”

“About what JJ?” When he doesn’t respond Shoupe pulls a sheet of loose notepad paper out that JJ hadn’t spotted before, a handwritten note scribbled on it, and pushes it towards him.

**_Scared of his dad. Possible abuse_.**

“There’s no evidence, kid. None…” Shoupe shrugs and leans back in his seat. “It’s all circumstantial. All of it. Unless you tell us,” he gestures over the table to JJ. “Show us.”

“Why?” JJ hisses angrily. 

“Why what, JJ?”

“Why do you care?” he thumps at the table. “Why now?”

“Because you’re on probation, kid!” Shoupe snaps, banging the table and JJ flinches back violently. Shoupe raises his hand calmly and sighs, bringing his hand back up to his face, dragging it down his face tiredly. 

JJ looks down, refusing to look at the older man.

“And if you don’t give me something to work with then you’ll probably face time. Unlawful discharge of a firearm, trespass on protected habitat, felony destruction of property. Don’t be stupid kid. Don’t let that shit-head coward win. It was self-defence, JJ. We both know it, so just admit it and let me prove it.”

JJ slowly looks up.

Sees Shoupe’s face.

Genuine.

Honest.

Concerned.

A tear spills over.

“Let me help you, JJ…” Shoupe asks again. “I can’t help John B. But I can help you. So let me.”

JJ had been stoned and drunk when he’d shown Kie and Pope. Off his face. But not today. His dad used to make sure he went for areas that could easily be hidden and JJ made sure to try and hide them or laugh it off. He _fell_ , he _slipped_ , he had a _fight_ with a _kooke_ \- he had enough clashes with them that it was easily believable - he was _drunk_ _and wasted_. The others were not stupid. They knew his dad was a dick, that he could be a drunk dick, but until that night with the hot tub he didn’t think they truly realised the extent of it. John B was different though. John B hadn’t needed him to say anything. He just knew. Grabbed his hand one night, tugged him close and told him that his place would always be a safe place. And now it - _he_ \- had gone.

He crumples in on himself, hides his face in his hand as more tears spill and a broken sob breaks free.

He nods once, still hiding his face, as he lifts his shirt up.

He hears Shoupe curse loudly as he comes around the table for a better look.

“You did good, JJ” Shoupe tells him, a soft squeeze to his shoulder and a second later there’s a ruffle to his hair. “I’m proud of you.”

He hasn’t heard those words before and it fucking shatters him. He shudders and then breaks, sobbing into his hands. Apart from Pope’s dad, who only ever tolerated him until today, he’s never truly known a father figure. And that? That right there, that’s what he’d always wanted to hear. From his dad’s sober lips.

He can’t remember the last time he’d heard “I love you,” or even if anyone had ever said it at all. He doesn’t even think he will truly ever hear it.

“It will be okay, son...” Shoupe says and he finds himself pulled into an embrace. It’s not like Kie’s, or Pope’s and he falls into it easily, hiding his face in the deputies chest. It feels like his dad’s - a distant memory or the one from earlier in the day, filled with love and  _ drugs _ \- and John B’s all encompassing arms or Pope’s dad who folded him into his family in an  _ instant _ .

“I used to stay with John B when it got bad,” JJ says quietly once his sobs die down. “But now he’s gone.”

“I know kid,” Shoupe squeezes him. “And I’m so fucking sorry.”

The rest of the interview is a hazy mess of flashing lights, photographic evidence and cataloguing of all of his injuries.  
  


* * *

JJ spends the next three days with Pope and his family. Kie joins them and refuses to leave. They spend most of the time huddled together, talking about John B, Kie even providing a few stories about Sarah.

On the 3rd day, Shoupe arrives with John B’s social worker. Only now she’s his too.

“Sorry, kid…” Shoupe apologises. “But you got to go with her. Just for a few days. I promise.”

JJ isn’t sure why but there’s something about the way Shoupe says it that has him agreeing without causing too much of a fuss.

“Anything for you, dep-ur-tee…” JJ salutes mockingly.

Sure enough, two days later, Shoupe turns up to collect him.

“So,” JJ says, dumping his duffle in the back of the police cruiser. “Where are you taking me?”

“My place,” Shoupe says, handing him a file. “Temporary guardianship was filed today.”

“Wow,” JJ murmurs, as he flicks through the papers. “They hand these out that easily these days?” he jokes, remembering Ward’s about-turn when he realised John B knew where the gold was.

“You complaining?” Shoupe asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “I can take you back. Heard you had a real nice bunk-bed back at the home.”

“No, sir I am not,” JJ sings back, slinging the file in the back, alongside his bag.

They drive for a while before Shoupe breaks the silence.

“You should probably know that they’re sending out another search party today.”

JJ nods and looks out the window.

“And… JJ, hey…” he pauses, taps at JJ’s arm. “ I need you to look at me.”

JJ reluctantly turns. The older man looks troubled.

“It’s not a rescue party anymore. They’re not expecting to find…”

“He’s gone…” JJ nods, blinking. “He left and…”

“He’s dead, JJ.”

It’s blunt and sharp and JJ just blinks.

“He’s not just ‘gone’. He’s dead.”

“You don’t know that,” JJ says, quietly. It wavers and he clenches his hand into a fist because  _ damn it, _ he wanted to sound stronger. Of course, he knows it’s a probability - a  _ high _ probability - Pope hasn’t let anyone forget it, but that doesn’t mean he has to accept it.

“No, I don’t,” Shoupe nods, then slows the car, lets it roll to a stop and stay idle. “But it's highly unlikely they survived.” He turns in his seat, turning all his attention to him. JJ shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “He’s gone, JJ. Like your mom.”

JJ rests his hands on his legs, rolls his fingers against his jeans tightly, forming fists before he releases them and repeats the process over and over again.

“She left,” JJ insists. He swallows down a painful gulp. “She left  _ me _ .”

“She  _ died _ , JJ…” Shoupe reaches out and snags his wrist, stalling his movements. “And yes, she left. She chose suicide. But she was  _ sick _ , kid. A disease took her away, made her that way. She didn’t choose to leave  _ you _ . The sickness did.”

“John B chose to leave,” JJ says, quietly staring down into his lap. His mom might have killed herself because she was sick and the sea might have taken John B, but when it came down to it, John B willingly went into that storm knowing there was a high chance he wouldn’t come out of it. He might as well have killed himself, the outcome was the same.

Shoupe doesn’t respond to that. Instead he lets go of his hand and snakes it up to the back of JJ’s neck and squeezes. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am, but I can promise you I'm not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

JJ laughs out loud.

“Are you sure about that, old man?” JJ grins. “I can be a bit high maintenance.”

“Well, good thing I like a challenge,” Shoupe says, letting go and turning the engine back on. “And less of the old man, yeah?”

JJ offers him a lazy salute and rests his head on the back of his seat.

He’d never expected  _ this _ .

  
  


* * *

  
  


Three months later he receives a parcel.

It’s sent to Pope but addressed to him, so Pope drops it off.

“Is that what I think it is?” Pope asks, inching his way forward in excitement as JJ pulls the glass from the padded envelope.

JJ laughs, loud and excited, giddy to his own ears.

He’s  _ alive _ .

_ He has to be. _

John B could have been the only person to do this.

_ A message in a bottle. _

_ \--- _

_ fin _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
